


I’ll Give You All I Have

by In_love_with_writing002



Series: To Help a Broken Heart [3]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Banter, Cause he deserves to be nerdy, Crying, Eskel is flirty, Even More Banter, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Oral Sex, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Jaskier flirts with everyone, Jaskier had a cool teacher, Jaskier is a Bicon, Lambert has a sweet tooth, Lambert has emotions, Lambert needs to go to Horny Jail, Language Nerd Lambert, Love Confessions, M/M, Montage, Non-Explicit Smut, Philosophy talks, Polish is Elder speech, Someone gets punched, Tags update by chapter, Tender - Freeform, That unspoken thing, The Mortifying Ordeal of Being Known, because he deserves them, but not yet, discussion of childhood trauma, like so much banter, these two are a married couple, travel fic, tw panic attacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-08
Updated: 2020-08-11
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:35:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25780714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/In_love_with_writing002/pseuds/In_love_with_writing002
Summary: “If we want the rewards of being loved, we must submit to the mortifying ordeal of being known.”Lambert and Jaskier travel to Kaer Morhen. Along the way, their feelings for each other deepen...
Relationships: Jaskier | Dandelion & Lambert, Jaskier | Dandelion/Lambert
Series: To Help a Broken Heart [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1826272
Comments: 66
Kudos: 228





	1. He’s Nice

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to part three of this verse!! It’s still mostly just tender, ngl. I still blame Kell for my soft ideas. Somehow Lambert ended up as our mutual comfort character.
> 
> I’m going to update the tags as we go to not give anything away, but I believe I’ve tagged any important trigger warnings for the whole fic. Of course, please please _please_ tell me if I should tag anything else that’s triggering.

_“Lambert,”_ The name slipped from his lips unintentionally, and Jaskier covered his mouth with his hand. He stifled his next moan into his fist, other hand occupied by holding onto the witcher in question by the hair. Still, the witcher didn’t let up, and Jaskier squeezed his eyes shut under the force of a cresting tide of pleasure moments later. He panted, limbs losing all tension, and let his head fall back against his bedroll. A face peeped from under the purple cloak that Jaskier had been using as his covers.

“Enjoy yourself?” Lambert asked, grinning. Jaskier could still see the shine of spit on his lips, and though Jaskier was well past finished, a shudder of arousal shot down his spine. Lambert wiped his mouth on the back of his hand and rested his chin on the dip of Jaskier’s hip. “Rendered you speechless?”

“You’re good at that,” Jaskier finally said. His cheeks still felt very warm, almost too hot for the cloak. “Come up here?” It was a quiet request and Lambert listened, kissing and nipping his way up Jaskier’s hip, stomach, chest, and neck before he finally got to his face. He pressed a chaste kiss to Jaskier’s forehead and wrapped an arm around his waist.

“We should get back on the road soon,” Lambert said. “It’s a long way north. We still have Lyria, Aidern, _and_ Kaedwen to get through.”

Lambert and Jaskier had set up camp by the Jaruga, on the outskirts of Rivia and still two week’s travel to Kaer Morhen. The weather got colder the more north they travelled, and Jaskier often found himself huddled in Lambert’s arms on a break or starting a small fire, anything to chase back the cold. Lambert was getting stiffer, too, as though the cold air took with it his muscle control. They stopped in towns whenever they could and bought a room if there was vacancy, though the numbers were dwindling by the time they got through the mountain pass near Sodden.

“Can’t we just stay here for a while?” Jaskier asked, whining a little. He threw his arm over Lambert, who was still entirely dressed. “I’ve just had the best “good morning” since the Countess de Stael’s estate, can’t I enjoy it?”

Lambert laughed and kissed his cheek. “I’m glad you enjoyed yourself, but we do have a schedule. We need to be in Aidern by the day after tomorrow. I’ve already let you sleep in a bit.”

“You’re no fun,” Jaskier said, turning to give him a proper kiss. It was a bit unpleasant, tasting himself on his lips, but he was willing to tolerate it if it meant showing Lambert he was appreciative. Lambert was very good at distracting Jaskier from the horrible thoughts that swirled in his head. It was like he had some kind of intuition for it, a detector that told him when Jaskier’s anxieties reared their ugly heads. It was almost poetic, that a Witcher fought monsters in his mind with just words or gentle actions.

Either that or Jaskier was stupidly gone for him.

“I don’t even think you really believe that,” Lambert said, withdrawing from the kiss. “If I wasn’t any fun you would have left me for Oxenfurt back across the mountains.”

“I never told you where I was from,” Jaskier said. Well, he at least couldn’t _remember_ mentioning it. Lambert turned onto his back and held up his hands.

“You’re a Bard,” he said, raising his pointer finger. “Your accent tells me that you’re from Lettenhove,” another finger. “You’re educated, which implies you went to a university,” another finger. “Your oldest clothes are from Redania.” He showed Jaskier his hand. “So, Oxenfurt.”

Jaskier’s heart started pounding. Once again, Lambert’s intelligence surprised him. If he hadn’t just gotten off and felt lazy, he’d probably be tearing off Lambert’s clothes. He knew his face was flushed, but he hoped Lambert thought it was from the arousal, not the assault with the onslaught of his crush. “I think you just guessed,” Jaskier said, his voice teasing. He saw Lambert raise an eyebrow.

“Sure,” he said, sniffing. Lambert kissed him again before shuffling closer, letting Jaskier hide the frantic pace of his heartbeat by resting his forehead against Lambert’s neck. “We really can’t stay like this for long,” Lambert pointed out. “You need to eat, and we need to get back on the road.”

“You should eat, too,” Jaskier said, tilting up his head. “I know, you’re a witcher and everything so you don’t need to eat as often, but-“

“Don’t say ‘breakfast is the most important meal of the day,’” Lambert groaned.

“Breakfast is the most _crucial_ meal of the day _._ ” Jaskier said it with a grin and laughed when Lambert shoved him away, getting out from under the covers and standing up.

“Fuck off,” he said, though there was no bite to it. “Just for that, I’m letting you freeze.”

Jaskier scoffed. “Your Witcher blood only brought the temperature down!” He teased. Lambert put on his boots, crouching down by their stuff. Jaskier pulled his cloak closer to his body, grinning. “And what are you up to now?” He asked. Lambert didn’t respond. “Hello?” Still nothing. “Lamber-“ Jaskier was rudely interrupted by something being thrown over his face.

“Get dressed,” Lambert said. “And meet me by the river.” As Jaskier pulled the clothes off of his face and huffed angrily, he saw Lambert walking away, carrying a fishing net. He swallowed thickly when he got flashbacks of the djinn, and without trying, the memories of the incident flooded back to him. Choking on blood, the rush to the healer, _Yennefer—_

Jaskier kicked off the purple cloak, no longer caring about the chill. The outfit Lambert had thrown at him was dark green, and Jaskier was silently thankful that it wouldn’t make him think of any _other_ events he’d been through. Nervous sweat was forming on his neck while Jaskier stood, and he was surprised when a hand touched his shoulder, making him jump.

“You alright?” Lambert’s voice was soft like he was talking to a spooked horse. “You started panicking.”

Jaskier didn’t know how to articulate that Lambert fishing with a net had sent him spiralling, so he shook his head. Lambert’s arms wrapped around him tightly, and Jaskier finally felt like he wasn’t suffocating.

“Want me to stay here?”

Jaskier didn’t know how to respond. He felt like an idiot, standing in nothing but his small clothes and halfway to tears from panicking about something that happened _years_ prior. But he was willing to take what he could get, and Lambert seemed to want to offer that. It would have been easier if he was capable of talking.

“You don’t have to respond,” Lambert said as if reading his mind. “I just want to help you.” Fuck, he was so _nice._ Jaskier took a few steadying breaths before he realized he wasn’t hugging back, and he slid his arms over Lambert’s shoulders.

“Thank you,” Jaskier said quietly. Lambert clutched onto him tighter, giving him a squeeze and kissing his cheek.

“Let’s go to the river. _Together._ I have food in my bag, I don’t need to fish.” Lambert moved back a little when Jaskier started letting go but kept his hands on Jaskier’s waist. Jaskier knew what supplies they kept In their bags, and while yes, there were cured meats in them, they were supposed to be for emergencies. Not for when Jaskier was having one of his panics and couldn’t act _normal_ for a few moments.

“No, it’s-“

“No other option,” Lambert said. “Come on.”

Jaskier squeaked as he was lifted off the ground by the waist, grinning despite himself and holding onto Lambert’s jacket. “Lambert!” He said in protest.

“I wasn’t going to leave you alone. Hope you like your small clothes getting wet!”

“ _Witcher,_ put me down this instant!” Jaskier hardly fought, clinging tighter, tears from panic changing and turning to mirth. Still, he couldn’t let Lambert see how amusing the situation was. “Lambert, I’m going to get _wet!_ I can’t put on my clothes if I’m— _Lambert!”_ He shouted.

“You don’t seem to be struggling, Jaskier. Come on, a little soak?” Jaskier was facing away from the river, and he turned to look over his shoulder and saw the Jaruga very close, the slow water running west towards the ocean.

“Lambert, I swear to Lilit if you drop me in that river—“

“So I should throw you then?”

“Lambert!” Jaskier laughed when Lambert pinched his thigh.

“ _There_ you are,” Lambert said, voice low and fond. Jaskier was too busy laughing to hear him, though the pinch turned into a gentle rub.

“What are you- If you do this I swear I will complain the whole- _ah!”_ Jaskier was unceremoniously dropped into the frigid Jaruga, and he gasped before standing up quickly. “You _whoreson!”_ He glared at Lambert, who was up to his ankles in the water.

“ _Ooh_ , scathing,” Lambert said, his voice rich with sarcasm. Jaskier balanced himself on a rock in the river, watching Lambert laugh at him. He’d get his revenge. “What other clever insults can you come u- _fuck!”_ Lambert cursed as Jaskier tackled him and knocked him into the water.


	2. He’s Cute

“ _Y_ _ou suck!”_ Jaskier felt the words like a punch to the heart, the already barely restrained tears starting to fall down his face. A performance gone wrong had led to Jaskier thinking about Yennefer, which led to him thinking about Geralt, which sent his thoughts spiralling until he was practically hyperventilating through a song, fingers clumsy on his lute, voice cracking and breaking without proper breath support.

He was lucky that people didn’t start throwing things, because his performance was shoddy at best. Though the man had been disruptive all evening and people generally seemed to disagree with him, Jaskier still felt the pain sharp and fresh and deep.

“Hey.”

Jaskier blinked away the tears, looking for the source of the strong, low voice. He heard a chair squeak out from under a table and saw Lambert getting up and approaching the man.

“S _hut the fuck up.”_ Jaskier choked on a laugh, warmth bursting in his chest.

“Why, what’s gonna happen? This bard’s got a shit set and you know—“ The man, who had been sneering, was cut off when Lambert _decked him._ His fist connected to his jaw and the man fell from his seat in an unconscious heap. A rumble of approval went up from the other patrons, and Jaskier was so focused on watching Lambert curl and uncurl his first, calming down, that he almost didn’t notice when someone put their hand on his shoulder.

“You alright?” It was the barmaid who had asked him to play, genuine concern written across her features and a pint glass of ale in her hand.

“I’ll be okay,” Jaskier assured, pushing through the tightness in his throat. “Just got to me, I guess.” He flashed her a weak smile.

“Alright. Here’s an ale for your troubles. On the house.”

Jaskier took the drink from her with a sigh. She walked off, likely to pick up the man and take care of him, but his vision was filled with Lambert, and a gentle hand touched his jaw and pushed away his tears.

“Need to get out of here? We haven’t bought a room, and we can camp outside tonight.” 

Jaskier wanted to speak, but his words died on his lips. There was genuine worry in Lambert's gaze, and Jaskier could still feel the heat from the throbbing of Lambert's hand, the hand he'd just knocked a guy out with. For Jaskier. Because he'd made fun of him.

“Or do you need a distraction?” Lambert's voice was quiet and conspiratory.

Lambert was already distracting on his own, Jaskier thought. Heroic, and soft, and Jaskier was so fucking gone for him it made his chest ache. He put a hand on Lambert's, which had dropped onto his thigh. "I'm okay," he finally squeaked out. The corner of Lambert's mouth twitched up slightly, and Jaskier gave him a shove.

"At least you're not upset anymore," Lambert chuckled, running his hand over the side of his leg.

“Too observant for your own good,” Jaskier muttered back. "I'll be fine. Plus, if we were going to..." Jaskier trailed off, letting the implication hang before he took a deep breath. "Well, we still need a room,” he pointed out. Lambert lifted a brow, and his smirk turned into a salacious grin. “Ohhh, no,” Jaskier said quickly, even as he smiled back. “I don’t like that look in your eye.”

“What look? I was just going to say I-“

Jaskier shoved his tempting face away. “You ought to be jailed for your libido alone, Lambert.”

“Aw, come on, Buttercup,” Lambert protested, grabbing Jaskier’s hand and gently kissing his palm. _Fuck_ , if it didn’t make his heart stutter. The nickname was unexpected as well, and Jaskier blamed that for the reason why he didn’t stop Lambert from talking immediately. “I hate seeing you said when I could see you blissed out.”

“ _Lambert!!”_ Jaskier huffed urgently, pushing him away and standing from his chair, turning his lute behind his back. “You can’t just-“ he flicked his eyes around the tavern. Nobody was even paying attention anymore. He was pretty sure he could hear one man humming _“Toss a Coin”_ though.

“What, I can’t just say things like that?” Lambert’s voice was seductive, purposeful in his tone and the way the hand on his thigh slid higher. “I can say whatever I want,” he murmured. “And that includes saying that I want to take you into the back alley and make you sing nice and sweet for me.”

Jaskier was too easy, and Lambert and he both knew it.

“You’ve been thinking about it since we got into town— a room with a bed, something sturdy since you like—“

“ _Fucking gods,_ Lambert,” Jaskier cut him off. His face was warm, and it had nothing to do with the tears anymore. Arousal churned in his gut, side by side with the pounding of his heart that always came with Lambert mentioning that he knew something about Jaskier that he hadn't said out loud.

“I always know what you need.”

"I think you're just guessing," Jaskier said, reminiscent of their moment by the Jaruga. Lambert's grin widened.

"Sure."

Jaskier bit his lip to stifle a laugh, then decided to change the subject, pushing Lambert's hand gently off his thigh, hiding the way they tangled their fingers together out of view. He would have taken pity on Lambert's knees for crouching so long, but it was hard to feel sympathy when he looked so damn smug. "So..." He began, tilting his head. "Buttercup?"

Lambert's eyes widened slightly, and his hand tightened in Jaskier's while he looked away. "It just slipped out," he mumbled. "Nickname." Lambert was cute when he got embarrassed.

"Just wondering where it comes from," Jaskier replied. "Ah, wait. it's..."

" _Jaskier_ in Common is..." Lambert shook his head. _Oh._ Oh, that was sweet.

"I should have known you were familiar with Elder," Jaskier said, barely holding back a smile. He was definitely in love. _Fuck._ As if he didn't know already, and there Lambert was, endearing himself more and more to Jaskier. "Geralt didn't know much, though."

"Just the-"

"The curses!" Jaskier laughed, and Lambert looked back at him. Jaskier met his eyes and the air between them settled comfortably. Lambert was looking at Jaskier with a certain intense fondness, and Jaskier thought for a moment that Lambert would try to kiss him. He wasn't panicking but he was worried. It was a populated tavern, and people were already skeptical about men being in relationships, hence their hidden hands, even if they were in the part of the continent that was more tolerant of people who were... different.

"I'm gonna get us a room," Lambert said abruptly, releasing Jaskier's hand after squeezing it gently. Jaskier thought he could see the barest hint of a flush on Lambert's cheeks. He left, and Jaskier was alone with his ale, his sweaty hand, and the urgent pounding of his heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO END SPICY  
> IT WAS  
> I SWEAR  
> BUT THEY TURNED SOFT ON ME  
> AND LAMBERT TURNED INTO A NERD  
> HELP


	3. He's Emotional

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> CW: We talk a little bit about Lambert's past in this one, which canonically is... not great.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, fuck this is a lot.

They made it to the Pontar River the next day, where Lambert decided they could take a day to rest. He said they were making good time, and his good mood was having an impact on Jaskier, as well. He’d been playing upbeat tunes all day, making ridiculous variations of his already established songs, Lambert even throwing in some suggestions.

They’d gotten through what must have been their seventh parody of Toss a Coin that had them both laughing while they dangled their feet in the water when Jaskier noticed Lambert’s mood suddenly change. He looked on edge, eyes starting to darken. Usually, it happened when Lambert was remembering a particularly unhappy memory from his past. Jaskier didn’t know the details of Lambert’s past but he could figure out from his behaviour, and the way he subconsciously tensed when Jaskier gestured a bit too wide, that it wasn’t good.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, brushing their shoulders together. “Your mood’s gone sour.”

Lambert sighed. “It’s nothing, really,” he said. Jaskier pursed his lips thoughtfully. He could let it go, he supposed. But he didn't want to ignore the obvious.

“I know you're lying to me, but I won’t pressure you into talking,” he assured. Lambert looked over, something like shock in his eyes. “What, you get to know all my intricacies after just a week together, and I don’t get to pick you apart?”

Lambert opened and closed his mouth, then opened it again. “Nobody’s…”

Jaskier could see his pupils narrow into slits. He knew what Lambert was feeling— Jaskier had, after all, been through the same situation.

Lambert clenched his hands into fists, seeming to sway a little before turning to face Jaskier. “Come here,” he said, voice wavering just slightly.

“I’m right here.”

Lambert placed his hand on Jaskier’s thigh and Jaskier could feel how it shook, how it was sweating despite the chill in the air. “Come _closer.”_

Jaskier started to move, ready to climb into Lambert’s lap like he’d done so many times, but then Lambert slid closer, hands pushing up his shirt, feet kicking up water as he moved into the space between Jaskier’s legs. They'd never done that before. Lambert swayed forward until Jaskier was lying on his back, then dipped his head close, hovering, sharing the same air, but not quite kissing.

It was intimate.

Neither wishing to break the tension they breathed each other in, Lambert’s hands shaking where they held onto the shirt bunched up around Jaskier’s armpits. The knowledge that Lambert was really on the verge of tears made Jaskier feel extremely protective, and he brought his hand up to cup Lambert’s jaw. Lambert turned into the touch immediately, his eyes squinting shut.

“ _Please, Jaskier,”_ he whispered.

“What?” He asked softly, still not wanting to ruin the moment. Hearing Lambert sound so small made something in Jaskier’s heart swell, made him want to cradle him close and vanquish the bad thoughts that had to be running through his head. Made him want to-

“ _T_ _ake care of me._ ”

Jaskier took off Lambert’s clothes slowly, giving him every possible chance to say no or stop. Unlike the times they’d had sex before, it was a quiet affair next to the Pontar, Jaskier kissing Lambert over and over to help him hide his emotions, touching him with reverence as he opened him up, Lambert doing little else besides quietly moaning his enjoyment, or sweetly asking for more. 

Jaskier had _never_ seen a Witcher that tender, and _certainly_ didn’t expect it to come from Lambert, who was an asshole on a good day, and downright vicious on bad days.

But when Lambert, breathing heavily, slid his legs apart in invitation? How else was he supposed to respond, what could he do but gently kiss his tears away, bring them together, and take care of someone who had always been so gentle with him?

"My dad," Lambert said, curled up against Jaskier's side when they were finished, lazily tracing patterns over Jaskier's side. "was..." He stopped talking.

"You don't have to tell me, Lambert," Jaskier assured. "I know your type."

"What do you mean?"

"Well," Jaskier turned a little further to face him. "Back in university, I had a teacher. We called her Marianna. She worked with people, talked with people about their pasts and how the things they'd been through affected their behaviour."

Lambert grunted. "That sounds ridiculous."

"Well, you know. It was the arts." It got a chuckle out of Lambert. "Anyway, she showed us how to do similar things. Look at the way people behave, and figure out what from their past might influence that. We usually did it as an analysis for poets who were already dead, but a lot of it carries over into real life."

"What does this have to do with me?" Lambert asked. "I'm a different person than I was as a kid."

"Your body is new," Jaskier said, poking him in the chest with the hand not around his shoulders. "But your mind..." Jaskier brushed his fingers over Lambert's forehead. "We all have problems with our past that shape who we are. They become a part of us. With you, it's the way you observe people, try to figure out who they are as quickly as possible, so you can figure out if they're a threat." Jaskier saw Lambert's throat move as he swallowed. "It's because you had someone from your past who was a threat. Or maybe multiple people. Or it could have been something else, maybe a witcher thing-"

"No," Lambert said, cutting Jaskier off. "You're right." He looked away from Jaskier, rolling onto his back and sliding up under Jaskier's arm. "All that shit with my dad, I..." He ran a hand over his face. "I guess I never thought about it like that."

"You try not to let it get to you?" Jaskier asked.

"Yeah," Lambert sighed.

Things went quiet for a while, the day still in full strength around them. The area they were in was warm for the time of year, as if autumn was trying to give the world one final day of sunshine before the darkness of winter. Even the river was still warm enough to tolerate, though not for very long. Jaskier was planning to break the silence and say something about getting up to eat, but Lambert beat him to it.

"It's weird," Lambert said, holding a hand up and putting it on his chest. "This... companion shit."

"Not many friends?" Jaskier asked. "Or do you mean..."

"Neither," Lambert mumbled. "It's this..."

Jaskier looked over at him, watching his face scrunch up.

"This feeling of knowing someone, _really_ knowing them. The intricacies of how their mind works. Their habits. knowing how they'll act given a situation, based on those things you've learned about them, sometimes without them saying anything."

Jaskier felt his throat tighten a little.

"And the reverse, being known, uh," Lambert waved a hand. "That sounds ridiculous. I've been spending too much time with you."

Jaskier smiled, the tightness in his throat still present. Maybe he was a little ridiculous he thought, moving to take Lambert's hand in his own. "That was almost a confession," He muttered, though, with the lump in his throat, it came out as a whisper.

"Yeah, well..." Lambert shuffled to get comfortable again without Jaskier's arm around him. "One of us had to."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh.  
> I uh.  
> I didn't intend for that to be how this chapter ended.  
> Curse these two.
> 
> (Bottom!Lambert rights)


	4. He's Perfect

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it! The final chapter of my travel fic. Surprise guest star!!

Their final stop before the mountain, according to Lambert, was Daevon. The city was big, though not excessively so. It was easy enough to navigate around, and Lambert and Jaskier spent most of a day wandering around and looking at random places, splurging with their excess coin from their work from Aidern to where they were. Lambert had an affinity for sweets, Jaskier discovered quickly, watching him beeline for the bakeries when they passed them. Sweetbreads, candies, they were devoured in minutes, all with the excitement of a boy trying chocolate for the first time. He licked honey off of his fingers with an indulgent smile, and Jaskier teased him for it when it dripped into the scruff on his chin.

“I know the owner there,” Lambert said, pointing to a tavern up the road. “Saved his daughter from some wyverns a few winters ago on a supply run from the keep.”

“Let’s check it out, then!” Jaskier tugged Lambert’s hand, which had been linked with his at their little fingers. To the passerby, it would seem like they were just trying to not get lost. “Maybe we can get a discount on a room for the night. Then we can enjoy the rest of our day together.”

“Alright,” Lambert agreed, and Jaskier pulled him along to the door of the tavern, the name proudly declaring “Bleater’s Tavern” with a goat on the sign above it. Lambert snickered behind him as they went inside.

“What’s so amusing?” Jaskier asked, turning around to face him as they stepped in, letting their hands come apart.

“Bleater,” Lambert replied. “It’s the name of my brother‘s… Holy shit.” Lambert was looking at a spot over his shoulder, so Jaskier turned back around to see what he was looking at.

“What, what are you-”

“Eskel!” Lambert put a hand on Jaskier’s arm lightly. “Get us a room, say you’re with me, there’s someone you should meet.” He started walking past Jaskier towards another man, and a double-take told him that he was also a Witcher. Long scars were running down one side of his face, his yellow eyes giving him away.

“Another witcher?” Jaskier asked.

“His name’s Eskel. He’s closer with Geralt than I am, he’ll want to hear about what happened between you.”

Jaskier grimaced a little. “Do I have to?” He asked. He’d been doing well not thinking about what had happened, Lambert being an excellent distraction, their rapidly blossoming relationship only growing more. Jaskier no longer felt strange about falling for him, had accepted when Lambert had practically confessed that what was between them was happening, whether he felt like he was ready or not.

“He won’t force you,” Lambert assured. “But I think he’ll be sympathetic if you do. We both know what Geralt is like.”

“I know, I just… haven’t thought about him in a while.”

“You don’t have to say anything, then,” Lambert said, touching his arm gently. The touch was reassuring, and Jaskier took a steadying breath in. “I’ll tell him the basics.”

Jaskier nodded. That sounded easier. He got them a room for cheap, after mentioning he was with Lambert. When he turned back, Lambert had walked towards the man with the scars on his face. They had their heads close together as if conspiring. He approached and put a hand on Lambert’s lower back to let him know he was there.

“Jaskier,” Lambert said lightly. “This is Eskel.”

Eskel stood and extended a hand for a shake, and Jaskier took it. “I’ve heard a lot about you,” Eskel said. “Lambert says you’re good company, and Geralt says you’re annoying.”

“Well, one of those things is certainly true,” Jaskier said, handing Lambert the key to their room. “I’ve heard you’re the best of all of the wolves with signs and that you have a goat, but that’s all I’ve got.”

“All the good things, then. Thanks, Lambert.” Eskel sat back in his chair, sipping from a tankard that was sitting on the table. “Lambert also told me you and Geralt are in a bit of a rough patch. Sorry to hear it. Geralt’s…”

“You don’t have to make excuses for him,” Jaskier said, raising a hand. “What’s done is done.” There was a nudge at his foot, and Jaskier looked over to see Lambert smiling at him. His heart fluttered in his chest, and he sat down to try and ground himself.

“I’m planning on heading up the path tomorrow morning, try to get to the keep before the snow starts falling. Might even be able to make it before the next day if I don’t stop too often.”

“With Scorpion? I think you’d be pushing your luck. It’s called The Killer for a reason,” Lambert huffed.

“Not like you don’t have some added weight as well,” Eskel said, jerking his head towards Jaskier. Jaskier very nearly gasped.

“Rough terrain has never been an issue for me before. After twenty-two years of walking every day? I might be in better shape than  _ your _ oversized lumpy ass. Though, I suppose riding does do one’s rear some good.” From beside him, Lambert started laughing. Eskel looked scandalized, and… a bit impressed. His lips quirked up into a smirk.

“Better not to make judgements before you’ve seen anything, bard.”

“I’ve seen enough Witchers from behind to know what they look like. But why do you say that? Are you offering?” He leaned forward, propping his elbows up on the table. “I wouldn’t say no if you were.” If he wasn’t just messing with him, Eskel would have been the type for Jaskier to try and make a move on. His looks, muscles, surly face and light demeanour would make for a very fun bed companion.

“I don’t think it’s in my best interests,” Eskel said. “Lambert looks like he’s ready to castrate me with the nearest sharp object.”

“Lambert,” Jaskier said coquettishly, looking over to him. “I didn’t know you felt that way about me.”

“Let’s get out of here,” Lambert said, looking slightly cowed despite his very serious voice. “We had plans for today.”

“I suppose we do,” Jaskier said with a sigh. “I suppose I’ll have to wait to keep flirting tomorrow, Eskel. Tonight, Lambert and I paint the town red.” Jaskier blew him a kiss, and that was when he noticed that Lambert had started growling. “Someone’s feeling possessive,” Jaskier grumbled under his breath while he stood, even if the warmth of arousal was starting to pool in his belly.

“Go easy on him, Runt,” Eskel called as they turned to leave. “He still has to get up the mountain.”

“Fuck off, Eskel,” Lambert growled back. It was all fun and good until Lambert slid his arm around Jaskier’s waist, and then his legs started to feel wobbly. Lambert hadn’t stopped growling, and it was  _ affecting _ him.

He waited until they were outside to pull Lambert into the alley next to the inn, letting himself be pushed up against the wall. Lambert pressed his nose and then teeth into his neck .

“You know I wouldn’t, right?” Jaskier asked breathlessly while Lambert sucked a vicious bruise into his skin. “You’re all I need.” Lambert’s hand slipped into his own, even while he continued his enthusiastic marking. Jaskier’s other hand slid up to rest around the back of Lambert’s head. He tightened his grip on Lambert's hand, just a little. Enough to reassure him. Lambert squeezed back. “You’re enough, what you want to give me is enough—“ Jaskier stopped when Lambert brought their mouths together.

“I want to give you  _ everything _ ,” Lambert whispered when they separated. “But this is all I have.”

“Lucky for you, then,” Jaskier said, tilting his head back against the brick of the building, closing his eyes while Lambert’s lips found his neck again.

“This is everything I want.”

_ To Be Continued <3 _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a segue into the next part of this verse, which is still a WIP. It'll probably be a bit before it's posted, but I hope you can forgive me for the time it takes. Thank you for following me down this journey!! Please keep your eyes out for more.
> 
> Update: Sorry this took so long to Upload!!! I hope you can forgive me :((

**Author's Note:**

> Daily updates until this fic is complete :))
> 
> UPDATE 8/13: apologies for the delay, due to the changes I made in chapters 2 and 3, this fic needed a different Chapter 4 to make it conclude nicely. The rework might take a couple extra days, but hopefully it will be worth it for you!
> 
> Find me on Tumblr [In-love-with-writing002](https://in-love-with-writing002.tumblr.com/) :))


End file.
